This compelling, intelligent and thought-provoking novel demands the reader to put aside their squeamishness and confront society’s malignant reality. There is a disquieting counter-narrative that jumps and bucks with unsparing political observations. The unreliable narrator puzzles and exasperates and yet also haunts and taunts.
My face was beginning to feel numb, and though my feet were dry, they were uncomfortably cold. I thought about turning back, but I have an aversion to reversing direction on a walk. When you’re going back somewhere, it is hard to think of anything but the destination. You fall out of the present, into a strange state that is a blend of anticipation and recollection, a blend of the future and the past. You see for a second time the landmarks on the route you’re retracing, and drift to thinking of the routine you’ll follow when you get back home. Onwards is always better.